The Story of Me
by Forbiddensoul562
Summary: To whom it may concern… this is the story of me as only I, Mello, can tell it. An attempt at Mello's autobiography. Spoilers galore. Rated M for language and explicit scenes. Warnings will be posted in ch.2, plz r&r!
1. Everyone Has A Story

Disclaimer: I do not own Mello, or Death Note, or any of the other characters I will be using in this story.

Chapter 1: Everyone Has A Story…

Everyone has a story, one that is worth telling; our memories are the ideas that are used to fill the pages. We all have one that is completely different from the people around us because we all see and react to situations differently.

I'm not sure what finally brought me to recall on my own story, to whoever cares to listen, but I know that if I don't then everything I did will go to waste; it'll all mean nothing.

What would anything I did, or any of the thoughts that went to explain my actions matter if no one remembers them in some way?

Heh… those final impulsive actions will all be mis-read in the future unless I explain my reasons behind them.

There are some people, like that big-headed Near, who already know the reasons behind my actions. But even that twit doesn't know everything. I'm not so predictable that I'd let him know all the reasons at once.

However, in order to explain the reasons the entire story needs to be told. And so, the story I swore to never tread back into I'll now tell for all to know. And in the end I suppose this really is the only way…

A/N: Short, yes, but it's just an introduction. Please review!


	2. I'd Rather Forget

A/N: Anyone who knows my writing of Death Note stories knows that I hesitate on doing Mello because he's so difficult for me to do. I've had this conversation with various people, Mello is predictable but impulsive at the same time and that's hard for me to do. So why I decided to do a story in Mello's P.O.V about him is beyond me…. It was too good of an idea to pass up. Plus, it's good practice.

Warning: This story, because it IS Mello, will involve the following and if you do not like it please find the back button: Swearing, violence, lemons, small bits of MelloxNear, even smaller bits of MelloxMatt, spoilers. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, or Mello.

Chapter 2: I'd Rather Forget…

My very first memories are not that of my many years stay at Wammy's, but the time before then, when my biological family was still alive.

Back when I was still only known as Mihael Keehl.

Though if I had the choice I'd rather forget that time all together, it really means nothing to me, seeing as it didn't do much to shape the rest of my life. But I suppose when one feels a traumatic experience as that certainly delivered to me it is impossible to forget.

The first memory I can ever recall is that of waking up in my family's chosen home one morning. It's simple and I lived as such in my ignorance for a good while.

My family consisted of four people. My parents, my older sister Andrea who was nine years older than me, and myself.

As odd as it may seem, my first real memory was from when I was seven years old. Everything before that has always been hidden behind a veil that I've never cared enough to look behind.

My family lived in Germany, but we moved from city to city every few days so there was no true home. I never did develop a true understanding of that word. My mother always said that we had to move because her and my father needed to for their jobs.

They never specifically told me what those 'jobs' were.

No, I had to figure it out on my own years later, after their deaths.

I don't blame them though, after all how exactly do you explain to a seven-year-old that your husband steals and sells drugs for money, and that you're a heroin addict who prostitutes both yourself and my sister just to support your addiction?

Back then my family was reversed from everyone else's. We slept or traveled by day and lived at night. I was left alone most nights to fend for myself while the rest of my family went out and 'worked'.

At the time I never thought anything of it. I was seven, stupid, and didn't know that my family was one of the very few that lived like this.

I was an arrogant child back then, I never thought much about the nightly gun shots and killings that happened right outside the building I was in. I always thought I'd be protected from that.

We never stayed long enough anywhere for me to go to a real school. But I taught myself how to read, write and even to do basic math. I always picked up on things quickly, no matter what it was, it was just another skill I learned I had.

My favorite thing to do though, during those long nights when I was alone in the abandoned buildings, was to stay up late and read. I'd get lost in the fantasies each old book I found created for me. It amazed me that on the first page distant lands were already fighting with one another but by the last page everything was solved.

I used to wonder if my life was going to be like that; if everything was going to ease out and we'd all be happy in the end.

My wondering of that was short lived, however.

I remember the night that those dreams were shot down forever. It was late at night, when I was still seven, I'd just put myself to bed not long before.

Then all of a sudden Andrea burst into my room, throwing the cracked wooden door closed almost as hard enough to crack the wall. I was startled into instant alertness and my blue eyes found her through the invading darkness.

She was a mess, even more so than normal. Her long blonde hair was knotted, dirty, and even ripped out in some areas. Her body moved with a powerful rage as she threw everything she could, including herself, against the walls. Her eyes that used to be so hollow, yet warm when directed at me, were now drowned with a fury that frightened me.

"Andrea?" I asked, in that innocent child voice that I still had.

She stopped almost instantly and looked dead at me with the blue eyes that mirrored my own in an intensity that could kill.

The next thing I knew she was right in front of me, her hand suddenly slapped me hard across the face. Tears welled in my eyes as my only pathetic means of defense. I was scared into silence.

My sister had always been the calm one; her sudden anger scared me more than anything I'd ever seen before.

"Fight back, Mihael!" She screamed at me. "Do something to stop me!"

I couldn't do anything.

There were tears in her eyes too and I didn't understand it. I was too stunned to do anything, really, and even if I wasn't there was no way I'd know what it was she wanted me to do.

"You have to, Mihael! No one is ever going to stand up for you in this life; you're on your own. You have to be strong for only yourself." She collapsed to her knees in the middle of my floor; I could just barely hear her beginning to sob.

"You're still so innocent." Her eyes snapped up, "but you had better lose that quickly. If not you'll never get anywhere. I can't take it anymore! Reality, as well as this very life is a very cruel thing. You'll learn that someday." She sat on the floor, sobbing openly for my confused eyes to take in.

I was too lost in the confusion to ask what she was talking about; too young to understand what she was trying to convey to me.

After several long minutes of this barely broken silence she finally got up and left my room without another word or glance to me.

I lay awake, curled up on the old mattress, wondering over all she'd said. This all seemed like nothing I'd ever come across in any of my books and I couldn't even begin to grasp the underlying message she was desperately sending out.

By the time I finally figured it out, it was too late.

The next morning she was found dead in her bed.

I couldn't tell you exactly how she did it, my mother kept me away from the room at all costs, but I overheard the things she said. I hid behind walls or anywhere else I could that day in order to try and overhear the conversations my parents had about my sister.

My mother told my father that Andrea was weak, and had finally snapped. She said that she probably couldn't handle what was going on.

"So what the hell are we going to do now?" My father's stern voice asked firmly. He'd always been a gruff man for as long as I'd known him. I'd never heard any other tone escape his lips but that one.

"Well obviously we have to bury her then move on before anyone else shows up." My mom said surely. My mother was the brains, I figured she was where I got it; at one time she probably had the mental ability to do any occupation she wanted. But years of drug exposure had brought that down a bit.

Andrea had told me once that my father's violence was what kept her around; she was too afraid to leave.

"No." He said forcefully. "We'll just leave now. No one is going to know who she is or what happened. We'll act like nothing even happened."

"You expect me to just leave my dead daughter like she's no one?" My mother asked, obviously shocked by his idea.

"Yes, I do!"

I couldn't hold myself back, without even thinking I appeared from where I had been hiding around the corner out into the pitiful excuse of a dining room. Both pairs of eyes fell onto me instantly.

"We can't just leave Andrea!" I said, attempting to sound just as forceful as my father had.

"Go back to your room, Mihael." My mother turned her head away from me. I couldn't figure out why, and at the time I didn't care to know either.

"No. We can't leave Andrea, she's my sister! She deserves better!"

"Mihael!" She shouted.

"No!"

"Damn it, boy!" In one stride my father was in front of me, and suddenly a heavy hand slammed into the side of my face, hard enough to throw me to the cold wooden floor.

I froze, my hand rose up to the now burning patch on my cheek. He was glaring down at me with burning green eyes, "you will learn respect! We do what I say in this family, nothing else, you hear me?"

I was silent.

"Answer me!" He shouted, making me cringe away.

"Yes."

"Good. Now go!"

I wasn't sure where exactly he wanted me to go, but at the time it didn't matter. Anywhere was better than being in the same room as my parents. I fled from the dining area back into my room; hand still holding my cheek.

A/N: Ugh, so difficult. I don't understand why this is such a difficult thing to write! Maybe I'm thinking too much into it? I don't know. Anyway, Mello seems OOC in this, and he will for a couple chapters but trust me it'll all make sense later on. There is a reason somewhere behind my madness, I swear.

Please review!

_-Forbiddensoul562_


	3. A Light To Clear My Path

A/N: To be completely honest… I don't know why I decided to pick this back up. Writing the second chapter was one of the hardest things I've done and I know for a fact it won't get any easier until I hit Wammy's. I suppose it's just the hopes that you people will read this and review it. Oh, and that little need inside me that says I want to be the one to document Mello's life.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, or Mello, or any of the other characters from the series that I use in here.

Chapter 3: A Light To Clear My Path…

If I had known back then that being hit once by my father would set off an addiction with him that made him continue to do it, I would have left right then.

It wouldn't have mattered where I went, or how I got by, Hell would have been better than staying with my parents, while I tried to convince myself that they loved me.

They were my parents. They were supposed to love me. Right?

There were many times when I didn't think so.

After that one day, when my father struck me, he began to do it regularly. Day or night, public or in the privacy of wherever we were staying; it didn't matter. He'd be fine, calm, or deep in thought one moment then hit me the next.

He'd yell at me over and over as he repeated the violent action, screaming that everything that was happening to us was my fault. We had no permanent house, my fault. We had no food, my fault. We had no money, my fault. But the one thing he'd scream at me that hurt the most…

My sister's suicide...my fault.

I tried not to ever show how much his fists as well as his words hurt me. I always tried to wipe away my tears the moment they threatened to spill over, and I'd stay completely silent so as to not provoke any more actions out of him.

Andrea had said that I needed to be strong for myself, and I could find no strength in letting the tears that inevitably came fall.

I was a child, and because of that I had no voice worth listening to. Fighting back in any sense of the word would have been pointless.

So this continued for many months.

But I remember the day that things began to change again. It was the day that I saw the light for the first time ever. When I saw it I promised myself I'd never forget the sight.

It was the middle of the afternoon and I was walking with my mother along a sidewalk in a German city that I can't recall the name of. We passed the people as though they weren't even there, eyes never straying from straight ahead.

My mother was in thought, and that's why she did it. I was just copying what she did.

We stopped suddenly at a crosswalk with a group of people and began to wait for it to be safe to walk across. Only then did I allow my eyes to stray away from what was in front of me.

I looked around at all of the people, watching some gaze down at their watches, while others talked amongst each other. Then I began to look at the buildings that lined the street.

My eyes were drawn to one across the street in particular.

It was built out of a light stone that seemed seamless at all points, and stood tall over the other buildings below it. There were stained glass windows higher up on it and two wooden doors at the top of a set of stone steps that looked to be thick and heavy. The sun was positioned in a way behind it that created a thick white light around it that no other building had. I was mesmerized.

"Mom," I asked quietly, tugging on the sleeve of the faded red shirt she had on. "What is that building over there?" I asked once her blue eyes looked down at me.

Her eyes followed where my finger was pointing. "That's a church, sweetie."

"What's that?"

"It's a place that people go to when they want to feel safe, or be forgiven." She explained to me as the cars on the street stopped and we began to cross.

"Who forgives them, Mom?" I asked with wonder. I held on to her sleeve so she could lead me and my eyes could stay trained on the building that held so much of my interest.

"God forgives them; the people believe that he keeps them safe as well." She explained.

"Can we go there someday?"

"Maybe one day, Mihael, but not today." That instantly told me to be quiet and to not speak any more on the subject.

I continued to watch the building as we walked. I wasn't sure what it was that held my interest so much. It was just a building that now had a name. Perhaps it was the thought that something inside of there had a promised security that the rest of the world was devoid of.

I tried to memorize exactly where I had seen this church as much as I could.

-

Three days later things picked up again. We were staying in an abandoned hotel on the outskirts of whatever city we were in.

I had put myself to bed only a couple of hours ago and was beginning to fall into a soft dream when all of a sudden the door to my room was slammed open. In my haze of half consciousness I thought the sound was simply part of my new dream.

But just then, a strong hand ripped me out of my sleep and I was met with the sight of my father holding me up off my bed by the collar of my shirt.

There was a strong odor on his breath, alcohol, and a wild fury in his eyes. I knew instantly what was going to come next.

He ripped me from my bed and slammed me against the closest wall, pinning me with his strong hands. "You bastard!" He shouted at me; his words were heavily slurred. "You're the reason we don't have any money!"

I was silent but the fear was evident on my face, at the time I didn't know how to hide all of that. I also didn't know that my fear only added fuel to his drunken anger.

He hit me once in the middle with his fist but kept me pinned so I couldn't double over. "Dad…" I coughed out.

"Don't say a damn word!" He screamed. "If you weren't here we'd have money, and food, and your mother and I wouldn't have to do what we do! This is all your fault, Mihael!"

Again he hit me and my eyes squeezed closed trying to block out the pain; I wished he'd leave me alone. I couldn't help my existence and I didn't know what else he wanted me to do to remedy the situation.

"Lucas!" My father stopped at the sound of my mother calling him. "Stop it!" I heard her take a step forward into the room.

"No! Those guys want double the money that they did last time! If we didn't have this little shit we may be able to come up with it!" I could feel his heated glare down at me.

"Double? Look maybe we can bargain with them or something. Put Mihael down, Lucas!"

My father hit me again, this time hard across my face. I couldn't fight the painful cry that fell from my lips. "Please!" I said desperately, tears pricking at the corner of my eyes, "I'm sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't always work in the real world! Take what you deserve." Another hit was given to my middle, then he suddenly threw me to a corner of the room and began arguing with my mother again.

"You know they're not going to go for that!"

"I'll work double and charge more than!" She argued.

The sickening sound of flesh meeting flesh in a powerful hit reached my ears. My eyes opened in curiosity only to find my mother on the ground before my father. The sight was a painful one, and it only hurt more for me to realize I could do nothing to help her.

"You both are the reason for this! Especially you, woman, if you weren't an idiot we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with!" He screamed down at her.

My mother's face lifted from where it'd been pointing downward and her blue eyes found mine. "Go, Mihael, now." She told me.

"Mom?" I doubt she could hear my whispered question.

"Now!" Her eyes hardened on me to express the force.

I hesitated for only another moment before my actions took over. All of my pain was gone for a single moment that was long enough to pick me up off the floor and force me to run from the room.

My father didn't bother to chase after me; he was probably more content with at least having one person to take his anger out on. But at the time I didn't realize that. I didn't even consider what I had just left behind.

I didn't stop to think that I had just left my mother to take the force of his anger, and that I was fleeing like the scared child I was to no particular destination. The only thing going through my mind was the need to run; the need to get away from there and find safety.

But Andrea had told me that the world was cruel. If that was true then where was I hoping to find what I was looking for?

Then it hit me, a light to clear my path. The church!

In that moment I recalled all the details that I could about where that immaculate building was within this city and I tried to retrace my steps back to it. In the back of my mind I hoped that whoever this 'God' person was, that he was still there and still seeing people.

The city was a lot different in the dead of night than it was during the day, when the streets were filled with people. Almost all of the buildings had different lights on and looked completely different from how I had remembered seeing them.

I'll never understand how, but somehow I found my way back to that church that night.

Even the tall church, that had looked so serene during the day, was different at night. The light that had surrounded it was now gone, in replace for a light that came from within and lit the glass panels in an eerie way.

'Maybe that's how this 'God' person keeps people safe,' I thought to myself, 'he scares away whatever is after the people.'

Without another thought I ran up the stone steps, and with a final hope on my mind I pulled on one of the wooden doors with all my might.

Thankfully, it opened.

The inside was huge, and deserted. For a moment I wondered if the church was meant to be closed but someone had forgotten to lock the doors.

The inside was made of the same material that the outside was, or at least it looked like it was. The floor was a cold stone that made each of my steps echo. I looked around my surroundings, there were what looked to be at least a hundred wooden pews all pointing forward to one wooden stage where a large podium was positioned.

The ceiling was high above me, and carved out into different arches and other elaborate designs. Candles hung down at different lengths from the ceiling and also stood around the walls; these provided the only dim light in this huge building.

I didn't know what I was doing, who I was looking for, or what happened inside this church. The pain from all the new afflictions were beginning to come back to the surface again for me to feel, so I walked up to one of the pews that was close to the front and took a seat. My face was hot and stung from the wound on my cheek, and I could feel new bruises forming in various places on my body.

Tears began flowing from my eyes; I hadn't even realized they were threatening. I didn't care to wipe them away anymore seeing as I was the only one here.

Realization hit me and it was just as painful as the physical pain was. I was just a child, barely eight years old, who was living a life that not many other children had to deal with. My family was ripped apart and getting further by the day and to top it all off, I had just left my own mother back with my father to do as he pleased.

I wasn't sure I should be here anymore. I wasn't sure if I was even worthy of being forgiven, or being kept safe.

Just then the sound of clicking shoes reached my ears as someone entered the room from a far door at the front of this huge room. I hadn't even seen that it was there.

It was a man who had walked out, an older man who appeared to be in his seventies or eighties. He was an average build, underneath the violet and royal blue silk robes he adorned; his hair was grey but his eyes were a bright green.

"Oh," he said as he caught sight of me, "Good evening, son, what brings you to this house of worship?" His voice was soft and kind. I'd never heard someone's voice go to that level of kindness while still sound so sincere.

I was puzzled by him and before I could think anything through, my words took over, "God?" I asked.

The man chuckled, "no, no, son. I am not God. I merely speak his words to the people in the hopes of sending his message."

My head lowered again till my, even at that time, long blonde hair blocked my view of him.

The clicking of his shoes started again, and within a moment he was standing by the bench I was at, "may I sit here?" He asked.

I nodded.

He sat and looked forward; there was an odd calm that filled me when he was there. "What's your name, son?" He asked kindly and with a genuine interest.

"Mihael." I answered.

"Mihael. That's a strong name. My name is Father Vincent, Mihael. What brings you to this church so late at night without any parents?" He asked.

At this time I understood that the life I lived was not the norm, but I never knew that the 'jobs' my parents had were against the law, and that so was what my father had been doing. "My Mom told me that this place is where people go when they want to be kept safe, or forgiven."

"Ah. Care to tell me why you're looking for those things?"

I shook my head.

"You came looking for God?" He asked.

I nodded.

"I understand." He stated. I looked up at him slowly and hesitantly, I couldn't figure out why he seemed to be so understanding. "Would you like to pray with me, Mihael?" He asked. When he met my eyes I saw his expression change, but the only thing I could see in it was remorse.

"Will God hear it?" I asked.

He nodded with a warming smile. He then proceeded to put his hands together and let his eyes close.

I followed him in the actions and listened as he began speaking in a language I didn't understand. I could only hope that he was praying for the safety and forgiveness I so wanted. Again I was mesmerized by the foreign words he spoke and how perfect they all sounded put together. It was a lot different than German.

When finally he stopped my eyes opened and my hands fell apart, I watched him expectantly to see what he'd do next.

His bright green eyes fell to me, "God will hear our prayers, have no doubts about that." He then stood up, "you may stay for as long as you'd like, Mihael, the church is always open and turns no one away. I'm afraid I have to get back to my duties now, but if you'd like to talk, or pray again please don't hesitate to say so."

I watched him leave to go back up to the front of the room but had nothing to say. That church filled me with a calm I had never before felt, and I actually felt that whoever this God was had actually heard me.

Hopefully now he would keep me safe...

A/N: Wow… that was a fun chapter to write. I don't know why, though. Alright, I'm not a Catholic, I wear a rosary and I love old churches but I don't ATTEND church, nor do I study the bible. So… that's why the actual prayer wasn't said in there (I was imagining that the priest was speaking Italian).

**Please review** all comments! (No flames!)  
_-Forbiddensoul562_


	4. Number of Choices

A/N: Alright so here's the next chapter. I'm pretty sure this is going to be the last part where his biological parents are still in existence. So… that's good. This'll start getting easier, and Mello will start being more Mello-like after this. Ha, I have everything planned out already! There is a reason for everything!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or anything within the series. If I did this series wouldn't even be on the site! It would have been in the original story.

Chapter 4: Number of Choices...

I didn't return home from that church until dawn. I knew at that time my father would have had enough time to either calm down and sleep or leave. But I didn't go back because of him. Hell, I would have been perfectly fine with just staying at the church. I went back for my mother, to see how she was.

I entered the old hotel room that we had decided to stay in, and looked around hesitantly. The entrance room was a mess, another victim to his violence, I was sure.

My eyes finally landed on my father's thick form, asleep on the old, forgotten couch against the far wall.

Hesitantly, I went further into the room, afraid that even the slightest of sounds would wake him up. There was still no sign of my mother anywhere, and with each step I took I was growing even more nervous.

"Mihael." A soft voice came from the other side of the room, where the makeshift kitchen was.

My eyes darted up and found the form of my mother standing in the doorway. Her blonde hair was messed up and she had dark bruises all over the parts of her arms that were exposed.

But that's not what my eyes saw.

My innocent yet observant eyes saw past the exterior, damaged skin and only registered her as my mother and my safety.

I didn't hold back the wave of relief that washed over me at that moment. I ran from the doorway, across the nearly destroyed room, and fell into her awaiting arms.

"I'm sorry for leaving!" I said, my eyes welling with tears as I spoke.

She shushed me quietly while her hands petted over my hair; with every stroke of her hand over my hair, I felt my worry fall away and disappear, replaced only with the sensation of relief.

"It's alright, sweetie."

"Are you okay?" I asked without pulling back.

"Of course I am. Everything will be fine now," she assured me.

"Promise?" I asked quietly.

"Yes." The response came out in a light exhale. I was too drowned in my relief to hear what was behind it.

When you're a kid, the only people you really have is your family. Your family doesn't lie to you, and they make things all better when life's not going so well. That's the false sense that I lived in when I was a child.

Even at that moment, after all that had happened, I still believed that my parents would make everything right. I believed my mother's promise to me without even second guessing it.

I was completely unprepared for the events that would happen next.

Everything was fine for the rest of the day. My mother and I were quiet for a long time after that moment. When we pulled away, things went back to how they normally were during the day.

She left the room to "have a moment alone with a friend" (I suspect now that she probably went back to shoot up on heroin) and I sat at the old table in the kitchen with one of the books that I'd found in the bedroom earlier.

Later on that afternoon, when my father finally woke up, he was silent. He didn't say anything to either of us, and barely even looked at me. There was no sadness in his eyes, or even regret. I couldn't find anything at all in those orbs.

My mother, though, was a different story. Whenever they were in the same room, their gazes would turn serious and intense; their eyes would then meet and it'd look as though they were having a whole conversation with just their eyes.

It was when night came that my father finally spoke to me. "Mihael, get ready now. We have to go." It was said in a stern tone and I didn't bother responding or even giving him a single glance, I just did as I was told.

I didn't have any possessions of my own, so it didn't take but a couple of minutes for me to get the small amount of clothes that I had, pack them away in a small bag, and reappear in the entrance room.

Both of my parents were already there, having one of their silent conversations with each other. I didn't think much of it at the time; I figured they were just getting over what had happened the previous night.

"Alright," my father said with his eyes still trained on my mother, "let's go."

She nodded, but I could just barely pick up on the hesitance in the motion. I let it pass without explanation.

We exited the old hotel and went out into the rest of the world; all of the horrors from the previous night were left behind in the forsaken building.

We walked for a long time in silence, but I barely noticed this. I was always too fascinated with observing the people and the places around us to see how they acted.

I barely even noticed the way my mother and father continued to send looks to one another. Hesitant and nervous looks from my mother and stern, promising ones from my father.

They led me through the German city to the very edge, where I could tell more violence happened by the rate of broken-into buildings and suspicious looking people that walked the streets.

This was the exact type of area we normally stayed in, so I didn't think much about it.

It wasn't until we reached a concrete building, maybe four stories tall, that we stopped outside. I observed the building silently, noting on all the boarded up windows; the ones that weren't lined with wooden boards were broken open. The once white walls were now painted with graffiti of all different things.

"Is this the place?" my mother quietly asked my father without looking down at me.

He nodded "We'll ask for another week."

She nodded in response then looked down at me as my father went over to one of the nearly shattered glass doors. "Mihael," she said quietly, bringing my attention back to her. "Listen to me very closely, alright?"

I nodded, and I don't know why but I began to memorize the way she looked and all of her features that I normally overlooked. I traced each line that came from age and stress with my eyes and noted on the despair lacing her angelic, blue eyes.

"You stay outside this building against the wall. Don't make a sound and don't go exploring. Your father and I will be right back. Okay?" she asked.

I nodded again.

She smiled, trying to offer me a bit of comfort in the expression. "I love you, Mihael."

I was confused but I tried not to let that show, "I love you too, Mom."

She stayed for another moment, then stood up and followed my father into the building.

I'll never have any way of knowing what exactly happened in that building that day. I did as I was told, leaning against the concrete wall and waiting for them to come back. Maybe if I had known what was going to happen next, I would have done something different.

Maybe I would have gone in there and begged them not to do it.

Maybe I would have begged for my mother not to go.

But that doesn't matter, because that's not what happened and I'll never know what exactly would have occurred had I changed one thing or another.

Life is filled with a great number of choices. There are an infinite number of choices that surround us every single day, and what we choose determines what happens next and shapes that next choice we face. I've learned over the years that going back and second guessing the decisions we make is pointless, since it'll never change anything.

But at the time I hadn't realized that.

All of a sudden, the sound of numerous gunshots from inside the building cut through the once silent and peaceful air. My heart began to race as I shot up from where I had previously been.

My eyes locked on the door that my parents had gone through. The only thing holding me back from following my curiosity and seeing what had happened inside was my mother's words telling me not to.

I waited for a painfully long few minutes, mentally begging for them to come out.

When the door finally opened though, it was not my parents that stepped out of the building.

A man, who appeared to be in his late twenties with thick black hair that matched the shade of the clothes he adorned and burning green eyes, stepped out along with three other men behind him.

He didn't notice me at first, but when he did his gaze locked on me and I froze into place. His eyes were what paralyzed me. The way they seemed to burn into my very soul, and the way they seemed to already know everything about me, even though I had never seen this man before.

He stopped in front of me. "Who are you?" he asked. His German didn't sound natural.

"Where are my parents?" I asked. Thankfully even at that age I had enough sense to not just give out exactly who I was.

He smirked at me for a moment before it fell away. "You must be Lucas's son."

I didn't respond.

"How old are you, child?" he asked, quite condescendingly.

"Eight." I tried to harden my gaze and make myself seem stronger than I knew I was. I didn't want him to have any more power over me than he already did with those eyes.

"Listen to me, child," he said, taking another step closer to me and kneeling down until we were at the same height. "You have done no wrong to me and your only mistake was having been born into this family, certainly something you could not control. But I have fixed this mistake. You are no longer bound to this family."

I tried not to think about what he meant by that.

"You must now survive on your own in this brutal and merciless world. You have to be the best and be strong in order to prove your worth, do you understand?"

I shook my head.

"You will someday. If you ever want to reclaim any type of worth to your name, you must follow the words I said, alright? Don't fall into the same fate your parents did."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" I didn't know why I was asking a man I had never met before this type of thing, or why I was even considering the things he was telling me.

"Like I said, be the best and the strongest. No one ever remembers the people who didn't make it to first place. There is no one that can tell you no; there is nothing you cannot take for yourself."

With that, he stood up. "I advise you to not go into that building." And then he began walking away from me, back into the violence-ridden part of the city.

I waited until that man and the people who had been with him were gone before I went over to the door. He had just said it, 'no one can tell me no', so by doing this I was only following what he was saying. I couldn't figure why I was so compelled to listen to him and thus I put it out of my mind.

Slowly, I opened up the shattered glass door, being careful not to cut myself on any of the loose pieces as I did this.

The whole first floor was completely hollowed out and debris from it littered the entirety of the floor as well as glass and remnants in small areas that showed that some people had previously stayed here.

My eyes searched the area as I slowly proceeded into it.

Then suddenly they fell onto the sight that would plague my memories for years to come.

The bloodied bodies of my parents were laying on the cold floor, stopped in their last actions. My mother was away from my father and looked as though she had attempted to run; there were bullet holes all up and down her back and a final one in the back of her head. As for my father, he looked like he had staggered for a moment before falling. From what I could tell, there was one bullet hole close to his heart and another in his head.

Again I was paralyzed in place by the sight of my only family dead in front of me. My heart raced and tears pricked at the corner of my eyes, threatening to fall.

I didn't know what to do. I wanted someone to cling to and to tell me what I was seeing wasn't true. But who would that person be? Who did I have left now that the rest of my family had been taken from me? I did the only logical thing that I could think of at the time.

I ran.

A/N: I contemplated where exactly I wanted to end this a couple times. But I finally decided that this would be the best place and to just combine two things next chapter. Either that or maybe I'll just make the next two chapters a bit shorter. I don't know yet.

**Please review all comments!  
**_-Forbiddensoul562_


	5. I Was Nobody

A/N: So, I think this chapter will be better than I think the last one was. This is going to be part of the part where I try and bring in Mello's inferiority complex. It took me till about last week to finally get a good understanding of what an inferiority complex was (thank you Insanitoon!) and now that I DOOO know what it is… it screwed up my original idea. I don't know… I'm just going to wing it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, or any of the characters.

Chapter 5: I Was Nobody…

I didn't know where I was going, or where I was running to. My mind was a haze of confusion and pain that made me seek out an escape from the image I had just seen.

The city around me faded away; the people that probably starred at the strange running blonde boy all fell into an abyss. The only thing that registered was the violent image that burned my mind, and my feet hitting the pavement.

There was an emptiness that was slowly suffocating me that said I was on my own. I was alone with nowhere to go and no one to go to.

A child lost in the merciless world.

I could feel the tears burning at my eyes but I refused to let them fall; they'd only show my growing weakness.

It felt like I'd been running for hours and yet the image of my dead parents continued to assault my mind making my body shake with pain.

I knew that this wasn't the way it was supposed to be; this wasn't right in any sense. Parents were supposed to be there for their kids for years, and protect them. They weren't supposed to die and leave their children behind!

I despised them both at that moment for putting me in this sudden situation.

When I finally stopped I had made it back to the same church from the other night; the one with the priest that had let me talk to God.

Grey, ominous clouds looked overhead giving the cold stone and the dark stained glass an abandoned, and terrifying appearance. I didn't care enough to think that through and let it scare me; I forced my way up the steps and wrenched the wooden door open.

I stood in the entry way for only a moment before continuing my run into the open church and down the lines of pews. I was barely aware of the people scattered around that all turned to look at me.

The priest that I was looking for wasn't at the front of the church as I had thought he might.

Instead there was another man, an older man in deep royal red robes; it was a red that reminded me of the blood and furthered the gripping pain on my heart.

"Why do you dare run in the house of God, child?" He asked condescendingly, but I was too shaken to register it.

"I need… I need," my voice shook horribly. Now that I was stationary I could feel the wave of emotions I couldn't control and the confusion wash over me. "Father Vincent." I collapsed to my knees after I said his name.

The tears fell from my eyes and within the next moment I was sobbing; the sounds echoed off the high ceiling and reverberated around the room. My hands rose to clutch at my eyes and block out the image and the questions on my mind.

The tears burned my skin and the sobs ripped through my chest. I hated it. I hated being that weak in front of even this few of people. It was pathetic. But at the time, those thoughts barely even crossed my mind. I hated it but at the same time I didn't care.

I hadn't even heard the priest move from his spot, but the next thing I knew a side door was opening and the sound of those familiar clicking shoes on the tile came to my ears. I didn't even have time to look up before that familiar voice was beside me.

"Mihael?" Father Vincent started in a worried tone that was at my level. "What's wrong, son?"

Another sob ripped from my form as I struggled for words, "I… my…" I couldn't say anything more.

Father Vincent paused a moment, "here," I was still clutching at my eyes but his voice grew just a bit farther from me than it had been before; he was now standing in front of me. "Come with me, Mihael."

I'm not sure what was so persuasive in his voice, but ever so slowly I let my hands, which were wet from my tears, fall and my eyes drift up to him.

He was giving me a reassuring smile; that odd calming sensation that I had gotten the other night was once again overcoming me.

He offered me a hand up. I starred from it back to him time and again but despite my wariness he never faltered. His patience was certainly enviable.

Finally though I reached up and took his hand. He helped me up off the floor then led me towards the closed wooden door on the left wall. Just as we reached the door I quickly looked out at the people in the pews that had been a witness to my breakdown.

They were all still sitting there, confused and shocked expressions on their faces. A burning hatred grew in my middle as I observed their expressions. None of them had even bothered to move an inch, none bothered to see what was wrong with the child that had collapsed and sobbed right in front of them.

As I was led into the room and out of their starring eyes I couldn't help but feel hatred for them all.

Once I was stopped in a small living type area, Father Vincent motioned for me to take a seat, which I instantly did. Now that I was out of all those people's stares the pain from the recent images flooded me all over again.

"Tell me what's wrong, Mihael." The priest said.

I was hesitant, and my voice wavered every few words but somehow I got out the whole story to him. His face remained solid the entire time that I told the story.

I finally stopped when he finally spoke up, "Dear God… so you have no family left?" The words were painful to hear, but shaking my head in response was even more painful.

"Alright, it's a good thing you came here, son, I'll make sure everything is taken care of, stay here." He moved again and left into another room.

When I was alone there, with nowhere left to run and a victim to the images and all the thoughts that assaulted me I couldn't help but begin thinking into it.

The words of my story no longer sounded as normal to me as they always had been before. The kindness that this priest constantly seemed to show me, why did my parents never mimic such things?

Why did my parents lie and break their promises to me? Why would they leave me alone for hours on end in places that were the farthest thing from safe? Did they not care enough about what happened to me to give any concern?"

The thought of it all sent a cold, sick shiver up my spine and I instinctively brought my legs up close to me, part of me wished to escape from that reality that I had lived in.

I could barely believe how stupid I had been to believe that everything was fine; and normal with my family. I was stupid to believe that any of my family members had loved me. I was just the child that they couldn't use to make money and couldn't get rid of. Just baggage.

A silent tear slipped from my closed eye as I realized this.

But now… what was I now? I was nobody, with no reason.

I looked around the darker room I was in. There was a book case across from me stalked to the very top with books of all sizes; I could tell by the light grey layer of dust that they hadn't been pulled out for a while.

Normally, I would jump at the chance to go and read the words that were printed on the pages but now it felt as though everything had been drained out of me and nothing was left that was willing to get up and look at them.

But as my eyes stayed trained on the books, filled with what I was sure was so much knowledge something began to turn in my mind.

My parents, especially my mother, had to have lied to me.

There was no way they could have loved me in the slightest. If they did they wouldn't have gotten themselves killed, and even before that they would have never left me alone for hours at night. And most certainly, my mother would have never let my father hit me.

They must have hated me.

But now they were gone; I was now empty of all they had filled me up with in my eight years of life. What was going to fill me now, I realized, was going to be only what I let get to me.

I slowly began to realize that I could make my own rules and dictate my own actions now. At the time, I thought that adults would only do what my parents had done and I wasn't about to let that happen again.

In a way, seeing my parent's dead bodies had brought the realization that both life and death did exist, and that in a single moment it could all be taken from us. It was at that moment that I realized how little I really had at the moment.

I was smart enough to realize that I was an orphan now, with nothing at all, but if I didn't do anything about it I would never be remembered for anything at all. No one would ever know my name.

I had to be remembered, I had to be noticed and seen by someone or even everybody. I would be the best… as that man had explained to me, being the best was the only way to gain worth.

I wanted to be worth something.

Just then Father Vincent appeared once again through the door he had previously left from, bringing me out of my deep thoughts.

He came over to me once again; this time his eyes were softer and a reassuring smile crossed his face as he took a seat in a chair in front of me.

"Mihael," he said, "it's going to be alright now."

I said nothing, but in my mind I wanted to ask him how he could be so sure.

"I've contacted some people and they're going to come by here to get you. They're going to take you to a place that will watch over you until another family comes to adopt you." He stated bluntly, but at the time the physical features made the bluntness invisible.

At the time I was also smart enough to know that I was in no position to dictate what happened in my future. In the slightest, I needed a place to stay. But on the other hand I didn't want to risk the chance of falling back into the situation I had been in with my parents.

I simply nodded in understanding.

Once again Father Vincent stood up, but he stepped closer to me first. My blue eyes trailed up to him and I watched his actions.

His hands that were wrinkled with age moved up to the black beaded necklace that hung around his neck. Lifting it over his head he took it off, the cross that hung at the end spun around in the free.

Then he gently placed it over my neck; I looked down at the necklace that now hung around my neck, it looked to be too big for my small frame but before I could comment his words caught me and brought my attention back to him.

"The people coming to get you may end up taking you away from this city. Just remember that this will always keep you safe, and so long as you're wearing this God will be by you through anything."

His fingers trailed over my gold locks as he walked away and my eyes looked down at the new necklace that hung around my neck.

This was now _my_ rosary… finally I owned something of my own.

A/N: So I liked how this chapter ended! I think it was cute!! Well next chapter will be the start of where Wammy's comes into play. I'm not too entirely sure how I'm going to do this but… hopefully I'll think of something. Any scenes you'd like to see would certainly be appreciated!

Please review!

_-Forbiddensoul562_


	6. My Name is Mello

A/N: So here's chapter six. This is where Wammy's starts to come in. I think this part of the story will be difficult only because I do feel like I need a lot of stuff in this, but I don't know yet how many chapters is going to be Mello in Wammy's. Who knows… we'll see what happens.

Disclaimer: I do not own Mello, or Death Note, or any of the other characters that I use for these stories so, please don't sue me.

Chapter 6: My Name is Mello…

I spent nearly half a year traveling from one orphanage to another. None ever really had everything that I needed at that time.

When they put me in a place that excelled with schools, I became even more violent simply because I was smarter than everyone else and I had grown bored of their academics.

When they placed me in military-type schools that were supposedly filled with kids that couldn't be put in any other place, I rebelled against them all and took control over them.

Anywhere I went I found a way to become better than those around me. And those who tried to beat me never lasted long enough to make any impact or even give me the slightest bit of joy in their defeat.

I needed a place where my skills could actually be challenged and had people there that could put up with my violence.

I remember the day that the place I needed to be at was found.

Well… to be more exact the place I needed to be found me.

I was sitting in some office building with a woman in an expensive looking suit who was on the phone so much it was impossible for me to ask her any questions at all. I simply watched and listened as she talked to whoever kept calling her.

Finally though, she hung up the phone. But I knew it wouldn't stay there for very long.

"So, Mihael, you're back again."

"I guess." I said, looking away.

"It seems we can never find a proper place for you." She said, rubbing her temples.

I remained silent this time; I didn't feel the urge to pick a fight with the woman who decided where my next residence would be.

"You're a difficult case, Mihael, every place we send you ends up sending you back for one reason or another. I'm beginning to wonder if you're doing this on purpose." I wondered to myself if she was really asking me or just thinking aloud.

We stared at each other for a long minute. No emotions were exchanged through the glances. It seemed as though she had lost all sense of empathy for me.

I didn't blame her, I was a difficult case.

All of a sudden the phone on the corner of her desk began ringing once again. She ignored it for a moment to break our connected eyes and dig through one of the drawers in her desk.

"Here," she said coming back up with a small rectangular bar wrapped with silver paper in her hands. She placed in on the desk in front of me, and then picked up the phone.

I looked at the small rectangle sitting in front of me for a long minute, unsure of what exactly it was; I'd never seen anything like this.

"What is it?" I asked.

She looked at me, confused. "It's chocolate."

At the time, I had no idea what the sweet treat known as chocolate was. As a child I was never given such things as candy; so this strange treat was a new thing.

But ever since I had gained my freedom I had been exploring many things that I had never done or seen before. I was constantly trying new foods, learning new games, reading new books and constantly observing the people around me in order to try and grasp how I should be acting.

This was just something else that was new.

So with hesitance hidden under my bold actions, I took the small, foiled treat off the desk and undid the wrapping from around it.

As I took the hard, brown substance from the wrapper and noticed for a moment how it slowly became softer the longer I held it between my fingers. I looked up at the woman and listened as she spoke into the receiver.

"Hello?" She paused for a moment. "Who is waiting?"

I held back my confused expression to look down at the chocolate held in my fingers and carefully slipped it between my lips; the whole time not having any idea of what would come from it.

I've had so many bars of chocolate during the course of my life; all of which helped me in one situation or another. Because of this it's hard to now remember exactly what I felt when I first tasted the sweet chocolate.

I'd like to think that it _was_ sweet to the taste, and that it made everything else fall away from me as I savored the creamy flavor as it melted on my tongue.

In any case, it was enough to get me addicted. It was my first drug of choice.

Once that first piece of chocolate was gone, I had to fight every urge in my body that wanted me to demand another piece from the woman. Normally I wouldn't have held back. Anything I wanted, I'd find a way to get.

But I had enough manners to wait until she was off that damned phone for another minute or two.

So instead I listened to the one side of the conversation I could hear.

"Where is he from?" She asked, her face a picture of confusion as she looked down at the wooden desk. "I don't know where that is; I've never heard of it before."

Again she paused.

"Does he have any proof to show he's legitimate?" She asked as her confused look only deepened; I watched with mild and slowly fading interest.

But finally she sighed, "alright, fine. Please let him in." With that she hung up the phone again and sighed.

I decided this was an opportune time to strike. "I want another piece of that chocolate." I said without faltering in the slightest.

Her brown eyes moved up to mine. "That's rather rude."

I was silent; it wasn't like I cared about what she thought anyway.

Finally she sighed again and dug into her drawer, bringing out an identical piece of the wrapped candy.

But then, just as she set the wrapped treat in front of me, the only door into this office opened. I didn't care enough to turn and see who had entered into the room; I was much too preoccupied with the candy I had been given.

"Good morning," came an older man's voice from behind me. His voice was thick with an accent that I wasn't familiar with.

This spiked my interest.

As I slipped the chocolate into my mouth I turned to see who the newcomer was.

The man that entered into the room that day was Watari. It was one of the few times that I ever got to see the actual founder of Wammy's house. Normally he was always with L, so he came around the orphanage almost as much as L himself… and that was never very often.

Watari never changed over the years, he looked like the same proper gentlemen when I was a kid all the way up until the last time I ever saw him.

But the first time my blue eyes laid on him, I was left with only the confused expression.

"My name is Quillish," he stated. "I'm the founder of an orphanage in England that houses many prodigy children. I was alerted to the fact that you have such a child in your possession now."

My eyes traveled back to the woman, who looked to be as confused as I had been. I couldn't decide whether he was talking about me, or if it was some other orphan child that they were discussing as if I wasn't even there.

"What did you say the name of it was?" She asked.

"Wammy's is the name. But it's a private institution, which is why it escapes your knowledge of orphanages," he explained.

"Are you talking about me?" I asked, bringing the attention down to me. I was just as audacious and outspoken at that time as I was when I got older. In my mind, questions and statements were just words so what was the point of holding them back when they caused less harm than physical actions?

"Are you Mihael Keehl?" Watari asked me.

I nodded.

"Then yes, I am."

"Mihael is a difficult orphan, sir. In half a year he's already been moved around nearly a dozen other places," she stated, making me come across as such a bad kid. It wasn't like I cared, it just didn't sound right to my ears.

"I understand that; I think we will have the means of taking care of him."

The woman sighed, running her fingers through her brown hair as she stared at the ceiling; I figured she'd lapsed into thought. This man, Watari, intrigued me from the very beginning and I found myself hoping that the woman would let me go. I wanted to know more about this new orphanage that had sought _me_ out for a change.

"If you think so then by all means, you may have him. But if you decide that he's too much then keep him in England. We don't have the services here for him anymore." I gave her a small glare. She was making me out to just be weight she was putting on someone else. I was _not_ just useless weight!

"I understand." Watari said with a nod, "I will send for his files soon."

"I'll have them taken out for you." She said.

Watari then turned to me. "Ready," he asked.

I stood and nodded, the desire to leave was much stronger than it had been before.

Watari led me out of the room, then silently out of the entire office building and to a black, sleek looking car. He got in the driver's seat and allowed me to sit in the front, leather passenger's seat; something I'd never done before.

My eyes trailed over to the older man as we began to drive away. "How did you find me?"

"We were searching for orphan children, such as you, who are particularly smart and quick learners," he explained.

"We?"

"Everything will be explained to you in due time. This is not the place where things will all be revealed."

I felt as though I was suddenly being dropped into the beginning of one of the stories I used to read. All of this sounded too odd to me; something didn't feel right about all of this. I remember looking upon Watari again and wondering to myself what exactly I had freely accepted going into.

"However," his voice brought me out of my thoughts again, "I can reveal some things right now. The orphanage that I run is a very secretive place that doesn't run like the majority of other orphanages you've probably been to."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"We train children to someday succeed the great detective L."

I remember instantly thinking what a stupid name that was, and how I didn't want to be involved in anything that sounded so absurd. But Watari cut me off before I could voice my thoughts.

"As a protective measure, each of the orphans at Wammy's has an alias that they go by; a name that they take and use instead of their real name."

'So I'm being re-named?' I thought to myself, and couldn't help thinking how stupid that sounded. All of this was proving to be stupid.

"So… do you have any ideas for a new name you would like?" He asked in a light enough tone to show he knew he was talking to a child but not so much that it was condescending.

"My name is Mihael." I said.

"If you're going to go to Wammy's you'll have to ignore that name and act as though it doesn't exist. If people can get a hold of who you are then they can destroy you."

'Destroy me?' I thought. I didn't want to be destroyed anymore than I already felt like I had been.

"I don't know any names." I said quietly. My pride wasn't as high at that time; if it had been I would have never admitted to my lack of creative nature at the time.

Watari gave a 'hm' to show he had slipped into thought as I watch and waited with a growing feeling of anxiousness at wanting to know what he would think of. I wasn't sure why I was so intrigued with what he was saying all of a sudden.

"How about Mello?" He finally said.

"My name is Mihael." I couldn't help the need to state that. The thought of losing the one thing that held me to my old life wasn't something I was ready to give up.

My name was the only thing I had left to keep me tied to the past. Even though I despised my parents, and understood that they never loved me… letting my given name go would be letting myself forget. To this day I'm still not sure why I was so stubborn about wanting to keep it.

"You can't keep that name."

"My name is Mihael!" My eyes closed and I looked away; my blonde hair hid my face from his view.

"Mihael… you must understand what I'm telling you. It's either you agree to these terms or I take you back now."

I had to think about it, heavily; my fingers played with the cross on the end of the rosary I still had hanging from around my neck. Did I want to give up the only thing I really had left? Wouldn't that mean I was giving everything up?

But on the other hand, what would I be getting in return for such a substantial loss? A new life, a fresh start; a chance to recreate myself into whatever I wanted to be. It was an ideal thought to look at.

With a silent sigh, my lips parted, "My name is Mello."

At that one, single moment, all of my past life dropped away from me. No longer was I the Keehl son that was never wanted. I no longer needed to live in the black nightmare of my family.

I was Mello now, and it was the start of a new life for me.

A/N: So, I kind of like the ending to that. It shows one of the three major life changes that Mello had to go through. At first I thought there might be four, but at the moment all I can think of is three. Oh well. This certainly was an interesting chapter; it didn't go as far as I had wanted but I think it was impactful enough. Next chapter will definitely have Wammy's in it!

Please review!  
_-Forbiddensoul562_


	7. God If You Can Somehow Hear Me

A/N: So here's where Wammy's actually comes into the story. As I said in the last chapter this time in Mello's life is going to be difficult… but it think I'll enjoy doing it the most just because I get to put all three of the successors in the one place and _really_ show Mello's hatred towards Near. Should be fun!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters in it. .Sigh. Why must the world be so cruel?

Chapter 7: God… If You Can Somehow Hear Me…

Wammy's wasn't an orphanage to me; it never was. It was an institution that produced products for the world to use someday.

Somehow I was always fine with that fact.

Either way, the events that happened at Wammy's was what really shaped me into the person that I became years later. It was in the building that I developed such a strong hatred for Near. It was there that I became smarter than I ever thought possible.

I was both built up into an astounding being, and destroyed into nothing within my stay there.

From the moment Watari's car pulled up to the front of Wammy's all I could do was stare in amazement at the large building that loomed behind a pair of wrought iron gates that separated it from the rest of the world.

When we got past the gates and stopped in front of the main entrance doors, there was no group of kids there to greet the new kid there. From the outside the silence and stillness of the building gave off the impression that no one lived here.

"Come on Mello." Watari said gently to me, holding open the car door for me. I hadn't even heard him stop the car, let alone get out. It was odd… the more I heard this new name being said to me, the more I began to feel as though it really was my name.

I didn't know what the actual word 'mellow' meant at that time and once I did finally did look it up, I thought it was some sick joke to call me something so opposite of how I saw myself.

I slipped out of the car with my blue eyes still watching every part of the building for any sign of life and my fingers once again touching the cold silver of the cross on my rosary.

Watari led me up to the front door; I brought my attention down to the door as my heart sped up from nervousness and waited to see what would greet me on the other side.

Watari was the first to go in so he could better lead me to where I needed to go first.

The entrance room was quiet, but from the way everything was set up I could just tell there were other children that lived here. But if that was so then why was it so quiet.

"Didn't you say this was an orphanage?" I asked, looking up at the older man.

He smiled, "the others should be in class right now. You'll see them later. For the moment, let us go to Roger's office; there we'll be able to further explain to you about this place." I tore my eyes away from my surroundings in order to follow him.

Heh, Roger's office… little did I know at the time of my arrival how much time I would be spending in there. When you get a reputation like I did, the troublemaker, not many people cover for you. So needless to say over the years I was there a lot.

"Roger?" I asked as we proceeded down one of the long hallways on the first floor.

"He runs Wammy's in my absence."

I held back my questions, getting a feeling that all would be explained in due time. I had patience back then. But then again that might have been because I wasn't always trying to beat someone and thus didn't have any reason to be so impulsive.

Watari led me through a door at the end of the hall that entered into Roger's office.

Roger, who was still the same looking even back at this time, looked up from some papers he was writing on. His eyes lit up at the sight of me behind the clear lens of his glasses.

"Ah, so this is the new child you told me about, Watari." He said.

"Yes." Watari looked down at me for a long moment and all was silent.

I looked between them, confused at their awaiting stares. I never bent under pressure and this situation was no different; I simply waited for someone to speak up and tell me what it was they were waiting for.

"Why don't you introduce yourself." Watari suggested.

'Oh,' I thought, 'that makes sense.' "My name is Mi-Mello." I said; trying to correct the mistake I had almost made as though it had never happened.

Roger just smiled at me, "I guess you already gave him an alias then?" His eyes moved up to Watari as he spoke; who nodded in response.

"What else have you told him?"

"Not much else."

Roger nodded.

"Well then, Mello, why don't I help clear up some of the confusion that I'm sure you're feeling?" He said.

I was silent as I waited for him to begin.

"Well, a number of years ago Watari took in an orphan who now goes by the name of L. After years of studying, and practice, L became one of the greatest detectives that this century has ever seen. He now solves all of the cases that are too difficult for others." He explained to me in such a simple explanation.

"So what does that have to do with me?" I asked, giving Roger a wary look.

"Well Wammy's now functions as an orphanage for children who are very smart, such as yourself. The hope is that through the academics that we provide here should anything happen to L he will have a number of successors."

His words played a different way in my mind. At the time I didn't think of it as being copies of L, I saw it as an open opportunity. By being found, and brought into this place meant that I obviously had potential. This was an opportunity for me to someday become the best!

"And whoever takes over for him will gain the same title?" I asked, hopeful.

Roger nodded, "That's right."

I starred at Roger for a long minute, this all seemed too much to me, and way too easy. But at the time I was too excited to even be given this opportunity to think of asking into it. My main focus now was to do whatever I had to do in order to become the best so I could succeed this L person.

"So when do I get to meet this L guy?" I asked.

"For the safety of the orphans here, L doesn't come here very often." Watari answered.

"And… this whole thing is a competition then…" I said, talking more to myself than to them.

"If you want to think of it that way, then yes." Roger stated.

A deviant grin spread across my features, "and by just being here puts me within this competition?"

By the questioning look that formed on Roger's face I could tell he could see that nothing good would probably come from this; but he nodded none-the-less. "Just study hard and all will fall into place." He told me with an ounce of hesitance lingering in his voice.

I nodded, though not really comprehending what he had said. I was too busy within my mind, trying to devise a sure victory.

"Alright," Watari said, braking my train of thought. "Is that all the questions you have?"

I nodded again.

"Then I'll show you to your new room." He led me out of the office and once again down the long, empty hallway.

"Normally we would have your new roommate show you to where you're staying, but since he's in class you'll have to meet him later." He explained to me. Roommates was not a new concept to me, I'd had many before. My whole thing was that so long as they stayed on their side of the room, we wouldn't have a problem.

I was led up the stairs to where the building diverged off two ways and many doors lined these halls.

I stayed in the same room I was brought to that day throughout my entire stay at Wammy's just as I had the same roommate the entire time. So many different things happened within that room over the years.

Punishments were served there, connections were made, schemes were formed. It was endless and I would have it no other way.

But at that time, when Watari opened the door into the almost completely bare room, I couldn't help the first thought that popped into my mind. 'Whoever lives in here obviously doesn't have much of a personality.'

I stepped in, my worn down and dirty shoes barely making a sound on the light carpet flooring. I looked around, observing the furnishings. Two beds, of which it was obvious to tell that someone else slept in here by the un-made one closest to the door; a desk with numerous papers and books crammed onto its surface in a disorganized fashion, a single dresser and a single mirror.

I wasn't complaining; it was certainly better than I had had it at some other places.

My observations of the room were suddenly disturbed by the older man's voice, "well then, if you don't mind I have something I need to attend to." With that he left the room; carefully clicking the door closed.

I starred at the door for a long time after that, though unsure of what exactly I was really waiting for. The silence in here was deafening, but even though I wanted to go out and explore this new place… there was something else I wanted to do more first.

I went over to the small table that sat next to the made bed (which sat against the wall next to the window) and began rummaging through the drawers. Unfortunately they all came up empty.

I looked around the room when I was positive that this was completely empty.

The desk!

I moved over to the cluttered desk, wondering to myself how it was anyone could get anything done in such a mess!

Again I began rummaging through the drawers, not caring in the slightest what I touched or what I looked in. I didn't care about anyone else's space since it _was_ my room too now.

But finally, in the very bottom drawer I found something I could use: an empty box.

Moving without a sound I went back over to the made bed and sat down on the floor. I looked at the small brown box for a long minute; then with a heavy exhale of breath I slipped the rosary that was still comfortably resting around my neck off and held it gently, like the finest and most brittle material, in my hands.

'God… if you can somehow hear me right now,' I thought to myself as I traced each of the black beads, 'I know this is supposed to keep me safe… but I also feel safe here now. Like this is where I am supposed to be. If I need your safety or your forgiveness I'll come and get this, but right now I want to do this by myself without you having to watch over me.'

Looking back on that little one-sided conversation I had with God, it really was childish. But at the time I had it set firmly in my mind that I didn't want anyone's help in becoming the best of everybody. I wanted to be able to say I did it on my own.

So with that thought resting on my mind I carefully placed the beaded chain inside the box and closed it up. Then, before I could somehow persuade myself out of it, I slipped the box under my bed.

Where it would remain untouched for years to come.

But as I pulled myself back and sat on the floor, thinking over what I had just done, the sound of the door opening caught my ears.

"So, you're my new roommate?"

A/N: Ha! What a terrible place to end it, right? I mean, it's not so much a cliffhanger seeing as all the things I said during the chapter. I had originally planned on stopping this chapter at 'where it would remain' but then after I thought about it I figured it'd be harder to transition over. Plus, it was just too much fun to add that!

So, tell me your comments!

Please review

_-Forbiddensoul562_


	8. Maybe You're Not Even As Smart As Matt

A/N: So, I think I had some ideas for this chapter when I initially thought about it. But as I procrastinated about writing it down, the ideas decided to leave me… so… I'll have to try and figure out what I wanted for this again. Jeez, I hate when this happens.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters.

Chapter 8: Maybe You're Not Even As Smart As Matt

I paused for a moment at the sound that had come from the door. Without hesitation, I turned my gaze to look upon who was my new roommate.

My look instantly changed to confusion.

The redhead was leaning against the doorframe in the same striped attire that he seemed to wear every day after this point, goggles over his eyes, and a portable game system in his hands that was holding all of his attention.

I remember wondering to myself if he had some weird psychic ability that let him know I was there without having to look up.

"Yeah," I said while still looking him over.

He stepped into the room and closed the door before going over to the unmade bed. "That's cool. My name's Matt, by the way. We should be friends." A small grin grew across his face as he spoke.

I moved from the floor, glad that he hadn't asked what I was doing there, and to my new bed. "Matt…" I said, as if testing the name out on my tongue. "Is that your real name?" I couldn't quite understand why I had been given such an unorthodox alias while this gamer's seemed to be so normal.

"No," he said, suddenly detached.

The annoying beeps and other sounds from the game held in his hands were beginning to get on my nerves since I hadn't learned to simply ignore it yet. I had developed a hatred for people that ignored me or didn't give me the time of day, and at the time, before I understood how Matt worked, he seemed to fit right into that category.

I considered ripping the game from him and throwing it against the wall.

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you," he said.

"Why not?"

"It's a rule here."

My eyes narrowed on him. I wasn't determined enough to try and get it out of him nor did I feel in the mood to beat him up for it; so with a huff, I finally let it go.

At the time, I was ignorantly oblivious and didn't understand the magnitude of the place that I had been brought to. Despite everything that Watari had said to me it still seemed like any other orphanage I had lived in.

This was just another place for me to take over, and I was determined to do just that. The contest that they had here would bring me closer to being the best… better than everyone else.

This kid, Matt, was my first target to take over, and I would use his desire for friendship against him.

"So… Matt," I started, "you want to be friends with me?"

He looked up from his game at me for the first time, then nodded.

"Okay. Go get me some chocolate."

He paused for a long moment, probably waiting to see if I was kidding or not. But I wasn't. The first step to dominating a place such as this, I had found, was to control a select number of people in it so that I could use them for my dirty work.

This roommate seemed to be the best candidate for that.

Thankfully, though, he had enough sense to decline from my demands; I think if he had consented to everything I said right off the bat, I would have taken advantage of his loyalty instead of developing an actual friendship with him later.

Matt was always a good guy. He didn't have the motivation to really work towards his full abilities the majority of the time but for some reason we stuck. Though, even I'll admit that it took some time for that.

After what'd happened with my family, I'd lost a lot of my ability to ever fully trust people. To this day I only ever completely trusted two people.

But I'm getting off topic now.

"How about I just show you where they keep that stuff? And I'll show you around the rest of the building too," Matt said, getting up again and already heading for the door.

I stood up and followed him out into the hallway while pushing my hands down into my pockets.

"Hey, you know you never told me your name," Matt said with his gaze were locked on the screen of his game again.

I watched him maneuver his way down the hall towards the stairs without looking up; his ability to walk within reality yet let his mind reside within the game screen interested me. I knew I could never do that -I had too much focus on my goals to ever get distracted with such a petty thing.

"Mello," I finally said.

He grinned. "That's cool. I wish I had a cool name like that."

I grinned back and considered asking to switch names with him. They were only aliases, after all, and in the scheme of things they really had no really purpose other than to protect who we really were. What would it matter if we traded them around a bit?

"Whatever," I finally said. Idealizing was always a good tool to use when trying to overtake someone, or groups of people. "So I'm assuming you know about this competition thing that's here, right?" I asked, looking over at him again.

"Of course I do. That's what the majority of the kids here are here for: to try and be the next successor of L." I listened to his words like they were gold, trying to get a feel for the rest of the people here while also trying to hear whether or not he'd tell me anything I didn't already know.

"And you?" I finally asked when he remained quiet.

"I'm the first in line to succeed L should he die."

My eyes narrowed on Matt instantly; I eyed him up and down while feeling a sudden wave of hatred for this goggle-wearing boy fill me. He was the one standing between me and the position I now wanted so badly. (In the back of my mind I wondered why I wanted it so badly. I didn't even _know_ this L guy.)

"Hm," I huffed. "Well let me tell you right now, Matt, I'm going to take that spot from you. I'm going to be number one." I tried to be as convincing and forceful as I could. At the time I didn't know what true hatred was, so I was trying to show an emotion that I only had a vague understanding of.

"Okay," he said.

My eyes shot over to him as we descended down the stairs. "Okay?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, okay. I don't really care. Honestly, I have no desire to be the next L. I'm just smart so in a way I made it to that spot against my will. Go ahead and take it if you want."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. This guy was letting down his top position over everyone just like that? So simply? It didn't seem right; I desperately tried to rack my brain for any possible explanations for why he could say such a thing.

"Okay so," he went on as we reached the bottom of the steps and to the entry way. His words broke me out of the thoughts that'd consumed my mind. "Over here is the common room, where some kids go to play." The redhead stated in front of a large open room where various other kids were sitting and playing.

"Back here," I followed Matt onwards down a long hallway, "is where the majority of the classrooms are, as well as the infirmary, and the library, which is open all the time."

I memorized the small signs that were above the two doors at the end; one said 'Infirmary' while the other said 'Library'. I instantly decided that I would be spending a lot of time in the library, where I could read as many books as I wanted.

Matt then backtracked to the entry way and to the opposite side of the building, which opened up into another large room; a dining room this time, with multiple tables positioned throughout it. "As you can tell, this is the dining room; if you're smart, you'll go to meals when they tell you to. Otherwise Roger and the other officials come and meddle in your business."

I only nodded in response. Through my entire stay at Wammy's I was always astonished by the place, though I'd never let any of that show to anyone. I'd spent half a year traveling from one hell-hole of an orphanage, where they didn't care whether you lived or died, to the next, where a simple pillow to rest your head on was a rare commodity.

After something like that, I'd gotten the impression that all places were like that, which only furthered my negative view of the world around me.

But Wammy's was different. Everything was always new and fancy in ways I'd never seen before. As Matt showed me around the building, I was plagued by two thoughts: 'What had I done to deserve going to a place like this?' and, 'Are they really just giving this to us?'

It all seemed too good to be true. Like something out of one of the story books I read.

"Then finally," Matt said, "the kitchen." This was a large room too, filled with a lot of silver from the many appliances used to make the dishes to be served. I looked around the room, memorizing the number of cabinets, the way everything was placed perfectly around the room, and also the odd way that the room had no one in it.

"Where is everyone?" I asked as Matt turned off his game and began climbing up on one of the counters.

He stopped and looked around, perhaps for once taking notice to the absence of people around us. "Probably doing other things since it's not really time to cook yet," he answered.

I leaned against the counter he was on and watched him open one of the cabinet doors and reach inside. I relished in the fact that I didn't have to tell him to get it, should the chocolate be in there, that he just did it.

A moment later, as he lowered his hand, holding it back to the counter to climb down, he held three rectangular chocolate bars in hand; my eyes filled with delight upon seeing them and I could already taste the sweet treat on my tongue as it melted and slid down my throat.

He got down and handed two to me. I looked down at the bars held in my hand then up at Matt, who was already tearing into the candy.

Without thinking about it, my hand shot out and took the chocolate from him, sending a death glare his way.

"Hey!" he said, annoyed.

My glare continued on him as I ripped away at the paper and bit into the candy. It tasted just as good as it had before, back at that agent's office, but this time a bit better because I knew I was in a better place than there.

"You have your games and I have chocolate. Leave it alone and we won't have a problem, got it?" I said forcefully and began to walk away, back out to the dining room; I just barely took notice to his light, defeated nod.

"So this makes us friends now?" Matt asked, finally catching up to me.

I looked over at him for a brief minute, considering it all. Then finally I shrugged, "I guess." It'd take more than that to obtain a true friendship, but I suppose at that moment I just wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear.

We had just entered back into the entry way and were heading back towards the stairs when all of a sudden the room filled with the shrilled voice of the one girl I came to despise in that whole place.

"Oh, there's a new kid here!" she said, stopping both Matt and I in our places. I would have been more than happy to continue onwards; I hated having the attention that I was new brought to me. I'd much rather bring the attention to me a different way, like by getting in trouble, or scoring the highest. Something to those effects was better than this. But I stopped anyway, wondering who exactly could have such an ear-splitting voice.

Matt sighed as the girl who had spoken appeared. She looked to be our age, but I couldn't be positive. "Mello, this is Linda," Matt said, obvious irritation in his voice as he flicked his game on again.

"Mello," she said, looking me up and down; her brown hair that was held back in pig-tails moved along with every other movement she made. "Interesting." Her voice trailed off but her hand didn't follow. Ever so slowly, but lacking a sense of hesitance, her fingers rose towards my blonde locks that hung by my face.

My eyes hardened and I instantly slapped her hand away. "Don't touch me." I shot her a heated glare.

"Ow! You didn't have to hit me!" She glared back at me and at that moment I knew the two of us weren't going to get along. I didn't realize till later that she was an artist and feeling texture was just one way she was able to make it more realistic.

"Linda, Mello's going to take my number one spot." Matt seemed so disconnected from our silent hatred for one another and didn't take notice to the glares we were throwing at each other.

Linda turned her attention to him though. After he finished speaking, she sighed. "Matt, I shouldn't be surprised. You're so lazy when it comes to your academics, it amazes me that you even made it to that spot."

She then looked at me. "What makes you think you're going to take it though? Maybe you're not even as smart as Matt."

I couldn't quite tell if she was purposefully trying to infuriate me or if it was something else.

I shot another glare at her. "I can beat anybody, even Matt." I was so sure of myself at the time… I wonder now where exactly all that confidence came from, or if, perhaps, it was just a façade to hide my failure behind it.

Maybe I didn't want to be seen for the failure and the mistake I was, so instead I tried to conceal it with all the small victories I could get over people.

Linda turned but looked back at me over her shoulder. "Whatever you say, Mello. You never know; maybe Matt or someone will show you you're not as great as you think." She began walking away. "Nice meeting you!"

I watched her go while ignoring all the words Matt was saying beside me. That girl didn't have a clue what she was talking about. I didn't do what I did because I thought I was great, it was more of a _need_ than anything.

I was slowly coming to realize that.

But I pushed it back. I would be the best here and there was no one, not even Matt, or that stupid Linda, who could stop me.

A/N: Meh… that ending kind of annoys me. I debated about adding that Linda part or just leaving it at when they left from the kitchen, but I guess I ultimately thought that it would be best to have that bit in there so that in the next couple of chapters it would be more of an impact. Hopefully that makes sense.

Please review!

_-Forbiddensoul562_


	9. The Day I Met L

A/N: So I've planned the next couple of chapter out as to what I want to be in it… though not so much the order. This whole Wammy's age is going to be fun to mess around with! I think afterwards, when he leaves, is going to be most difficult but… that's to be thought over on another day I guess. Ha, I'm ranting… I know, I'd be surprised if anyone reads these…

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters that are used in these. Hell, I don't even know if I own the theories that are in this story!

Chapter 9: The Day I Met L

Wammy's wasn't a hard place to take over, at least not when I was the one doing it.

People there found out quickly that if they even tried to stand in the way of me and my ultimate goal, that I would forcibly move them.

Most people there didn't try that though, and if they did they never posed a threat that was worth looking in to.

But I soon grew bored of being able to grow better than everyone else just by simply using my own skills.

More and more I found myself kept up at the dead of night in the empty library, only a single light made activities possible; the growing tower of books kept me company.

I never did this because I felt threatened in the least.

I suppose I only did it because I'd convinced myself that there _was_ some kind of false competition before me that I couldn't see.

Or perhaps I felt that I was now in competition with only myself.

Hell, I would even go so far as to think that maybe, somehow, I knew of the events that would soon take place.

All I remember thinking during those long, solitary nights of pointless studying, was: 'study more' 'I need to be better…'

And every week I did do better. It only took me a couple of months before I surpassed Matt and held the number one spot. Though, ironically, I don't think I'd call that day my favorite, or even place it in my top five favorites.

Over the years I've both seen and completely registered the effects that holding that number one spot for so many months had on me.

At that time _I_ was the best. _My _grades and accomplishments astonished everyone.

I think it would have been slightly easier to live in second if I had never tasted the fruits of first place for so long.

But that explanation is for another time, when I've finished explaining about the times when I was the best.

That day that I received the news from Matt that I'd finally beaten him, I was overjoyed to say the least. In my mind I knew that by getting this I'd proven that I was worth something.

But that day was meaningless compared to what came later.

It could have been days, or months later when it finally happened, since my sight on time began to blur together. One day seemed to always followed another without the intermission of night.

The day I'm talking about is the day I met L for the first time.

Somehow, I didn't hear about this event until that morning, though.

But that didn't matter afterwards, because this event was a huge deal to me, just like it would be for any of the other orphans at Wammy's –it was the day I would finally meet the person that I'd been fighting to succeed for so many months.

I was positive that meeting this L guy, the man who was supposedly the three greatest detectives this century had ever seen, would only make me want to fight harder to retain my top position.

The day was normal –a winter morning in late December. (I don't remember the specific date, but it was sometime after Christmas but before New Years.)

This morning of bitter cold had left me laying in my bed under the warm blankets that I'd refused to move from; such warmth and security as these brought me felt so good that they should be illegal.

I watched the snow fall gracefully and serenely past my window to the Earth, and to the waiting, giddy, children below. Time meant nothing and it fell away with little worth to me.

I lay there, watching and contemplating what was left for me, since I'd become number one at something and found a bit of worth in myself.

'What else is left for me?'I thought with a sigh, all my thought came to nothing.

Then all of a sudden the door to the room slammed open.

I didn't have time to turn and look before a body flung itself onto me. "You're so lucky, Mello!" Matt's voice said happily, "maybe I should have just kept my number one spot so I could get a chance like this!"

I turned under his weight just enough to see the stupid grin on his face and the humor in his eyes that were hidden behind his goggles.

"Get off me, Matt, you're crushing me!" I couldn't fight the smile on my face when his look dropped –yet he still didn't move.

"What's that supposed to me? Are you calling me fat?" He then purposefully put more weight on me.

"Maybe I am!" I told him, holding back the cringe at the increase of weight.

"Hey! I'm not the one who eats his body weight in chocolate every day!"

"Well I'm not the one who is lazy and only plays video games all day!"

I laughed at his annoyed face when he realized he had nothing to come back with. "So what are you talking about, Matt?" I finally asked as he got off me and sat on his own bed; I bundled myself back up into my blankets as he began to explain.

"I'm talking about your meeting with L of course! I'm surprised to find you here and not down bragging to anyone within hearing distance." He stated, yet all I'd heard was, 'meeting with L.'

Yes, somehow everyone else had heard about this except me. I'm still not too sure how that happened.

I was frozen in place in pure shock. "If you're joking, Matt, I swear I'll throw you down a flight of stairs."

He just grinned again as he pulled out one of his games; it was like he'd expected that response from me. "I'm serious. You get to meet L later today."

My eyes widened, at either the suddenness of this or the realization of the situation.

I leapt from my bed, no longer feeling the bitter cold that'd once chocked the room. "I get to meet L?" I asked; in the back of my mind I couldn't help but think it was about time I met this guy and got some real answers.

The rest of my mind raced with questions on what I was going to ask him and what was going to happen at this meeting.

"I thought we'd already established that." Matt said with the majority of his attention down at his game.

"When?" I asked as I began searching through my clothes for something I wanted to wear.

"I don't know. Roger would have probably told you, but you've been kept up here all day. No wonder you'd the only person who doesn't know about this."

"Damn it." I growled in annoyance. I was excited about this opportunity but I couldn't help the natural nervousness either. The description of L that I'd been given was vague and the more I heard the more I got the idea that none of the people even knew the answers themselves.

It sounded more like they were idolizing this detective simply because it was expected of them, more than they really would on their own.

This had to be true, after all, how could a person idolize a person they'd never met before?

'Finally,' I thought, 'I'll be able to put a face to a name… or a letter, I guess.'

Unfortunately, at the time, I didn't know how wrong I really was.

-

It was late in the afternoon when Roger called me from the lower floor where I'd been hanging out with Matt and told me to follow him.

"Do I get to meet L now?" I asked anxiously, looking up at the old man hopefully.

He smiled, "yes Mello, you get to meet him now."

I could barely hold back the excitement that I had as we walked down the hallway that, at the time, seemed to be too long.

My mind began to conjure up different images of what this L guy could look like. There were just so many options and I couldn't begin to try and decide which one I would hope for the most.

When we finally stopped in front of the room, I could hear my heart slamming against my rib cage in my ears. This was it, the day I'd been waiting for such so long; I tried to bring some intelligent thought to my mind, but couldn't –I was frozen and this also restricted my thoughts.

Roger opened the door and motioned me in first.

The room was of a moderate size and was completely empty except a wooden desk on the far side of the room where a laptop sat and a chair was in front of it.

I stepped in, not thoroughly confused by what was around me. 'Where's L?' I thought to myself.

All of a sudden the laptop slicked on to a screen with just a black, old English L on it; the light from the laptop filled the dimly lit room with an eerie glow. I froze in place once more.

"It's alright, Mello." Roger said from behind me, "why don't you take a seat?'

I didn't respond back, I just did as I was told and waited.

It didn't take but another moment for the sound of the microphone being switched on to fill the room, followed by the sound of L's scrambled voice. "Good evening, Mello, I'm L."

Every time I think of that first thought that crossed my mind after L said that, I can't help but laugh: 'L's a computer? Wow, wait until I tell Matt!"

I wasn't sure what to say back to him. I was usually pretty good at thinking quickly and coming up with responses fluidly, but this was different. This wasn't just another person who was below me, this was L –the one being I was trying to become someday.

He was the one person I needed to impress.

At least… that's what I thought at the time.

It didn't even occur to me until later that L was a human as well and he didn't care so much about who was better at what –he just wanted to know who his successors were as people.

But as I said, I didn't know that then, so I as left to simply reply, "I'm Mello." He already knew that, but honestly what else was there for me to say?

"I heard you like chocolate, Mello, here." Just then Roger appeared beside me with a large bar of chocolate in his hands.

My eyes widened at it but I took it gratefully; my fingers ran across the colored paper while my eyes tried to read and comprehend the foreign language written on it.

"I got it from a candy store in Belgium but I thought you'd like it more than I." He explained.

"Thank you." I said while still looking down at the candy in my hands. "That's very generous of you." I said the words nearly under my breath.

It wasn't that I was ungrateful or what not, because I was glad he'd done that. There was just something in me that made it hard to give a simple 'thanks' or to admit defeat.

"Go ahead and try it." The unnatural voice that the computer emitted requested; I complied.

L was one of the only people I ever let control me during the few meetings that we had. I still don't understand why I was so unnaturally okay about that fact –I just was.

I suppose it could be because he controlled it all so subtly and so carefully that is almost felt natural to do as he wanted. It could also be because he was always so gentle with me… or anyone here, really.

For so long I'd been told the many stories of L, justice, who fought to punish evildoers as they were meant to be. He came across as more of a fictional hero in my stories than an actual person.

But now, as I listened to the words he said to me, he sounded so much more human.

It was later that I realized that he had a thick line drawn between what he liked doing -his work- and his person affairs. He was almost a completely different person from when he was solving cases as opposed to hen he was interacting with us –his successors.

The chocolate he gave me was slightly bitter to my tastes but I didn't mind that so much. The fact that L had gotten it for me meant so much more. It meant he had been thinking about his newest successor… and had known enough about me to get something I would actually enjoy. In a way it meant more that he had even noticed and acted on it.

"You don't have to be so cordial, Mello, I know how you normally act and that's what I would like to see."

My blue eyes shot up to the screen, 'if that's how he wants it, then fine.' I thought to myself.

"What's the meaning behind this meeting, L? I'm not seeing the point of this." I can imagine him smiling at the sudden one-eighty change that my personality took.

"It's for you to know me better. I heard you ask a lot of questions; this is to be expected considering how little you were told in the beginning." He explained to me.

"That's not why I asked the questions." I told him, my voice hard and defensive.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I asked the questions so I could find out who exactly I was fighting to become."

"Even better," he said, "those kinds of reasons make for an even better detective. However, observing is just as important as those inquisitive qualities."

"Well perhaps I'd be able to do that more if you were actually here for me to observe." I shot back, ready to give him a verbal fight if that's what he wanted.

I can imagine that he smiled again, "that's true. Well, anyway, what would you like to know?"

I pushed the thought that he was once again controlling the conversation out of my mind to instead think it over. I knew I had question after question lined up somewhere in my mind, but now that I was actually here, with L willing to answer any of my questions, nothing came to me.

I suppose part of it was because it'd all drained during the initial nervousness.

"Why don't you ever come here?" I finally asked.

"It's simply safer to keep Wammy's a secret. The last thing that'd be needed is for the wrong people to find out where the successors of L are." He explained; it did make sense. "I do go back there sometimes, though it's not very often."

"So why didn't you come for this meeting?"

"I'm working on a case right now."

I nodded, though unsure of whether he saw it or not. "So… why are you a detective?" I asked, "Why that profession over anything else?"

"Well, when I attended Wammy's when it first started I was trained to be a good detective. I've always liked puzzles and such. Over time it became a passion of mine. So, it's more of a passion than a job."

I listened intently to what he said, memorizing each word as he said them. I observed the differences between us in that way.

He did what he did because he loved it… I was trying to get close to him so I could beat everyone else, not because I had any real desire to become a great detective.

Looking back, I wouldn't be surprised if he knew that right then.

But even still, we continued to talk and I continued to memorize his words. We talked about everything that I wanted, from a bit about his past, about the case he was currently working on; he even graced me with techniques I could use to become a better detective.

Later on that evening I left from the meeting with my half eaten chocolate bar grasped firmly in my hands and a new set of thoughts in mind.

L had given me a new reason to continue.

Now, not only would I succeed him, but I would make sure his legacy was continued on –one way or another.

I wanted to have as much passion about being a detective as he did. That's why later on that night, and all the ones that followed for the next couple of weeks, the stacks of books that kept me company in the library were all on crime and old cases.

I devoted everything I was to furthering any fascination I possessed on crimes and forensics.

In those following weeks after the meeting, I knew I was the best, but more and more I began to believe that I was the only one who deserved to be in that top spot. I worked too hard to not be.

I was the only one who posed any threat against me now. The only downfall I could find in myself was the barriers that seemed to always keep me from reaching a level of intelligence I thought I should be at.

But other than that, I was on top of the world. I lived in the glory of being number one every day and appreciated every moment of it. It was where I felt I was supposed to be.

That is… until that one fateful day that initiated the change of both my life and my actual personality. I'll never forget that day, and the time that happened after that for the rest of my life.

It was a rainy and dreary day. There was no class in session but I didn't care enough to remember why. All that mattered was that the less hours I spent in a classroom meant more time I could spend in the library, or playing with the other kids.

I was walking downstairs, searching for something to do to ease my mind that begged for something to do; I vaguely remember considering going and asking Matt if we could play one of his games. Sure, I knew I'd lose to him… but it didn't matter as much.

I had just began to ascend the stairs in the entry way when all of a sudden the front door to Wammy's opened. I turned around to see, and possibly question, whoever was coming in from the rain.

But I was paralyzed in place by what I saw there.

Watari walked in from the doorway, he closed his wet umbrella and set it off to the side as he also took off the black hat that sat atop his head of white hair.

But what caught my attention so much was the albino-looking being, who stood dripping wet next to him.

A/N: Ah! Am I cruel or what? I give you a good chapter and then end it off with something as cruel as that! Well, I suppose you can all guess what's coming up next based on what I told you… Actually, I don't think you will get it, because I'm gonna kind of throw you for a loop with this one. Well, what can I say, I have to keep things interesting.

Tell me what you think!

Please review!  
-_Forbiddensoul562_


	10. Certainly a Mystery

A/N: Sorry for the major delay in updating! I've been working a lot on another series that I may or may not be putting up, and because of that it's been taking up all my free time. Anyway, after this I'm hoping to be able to update more often. I'm still struggling with what's going to be in these chapters and what not… but I'm sure I'll be able to figure something out! Though, any requests would be helpful!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, or Mello, or anyone else that I use from the series.

Chapter 10: Certainly A Mystery…

I should've ran while I had the chance.

I should have ran up the stairs and locked myself in my room at that very moment. I should've done something to keep myself away from him.

Anything to break the bond that was unconsciously building between us.

Bt at the time I didn't do anything. I didn't run, or ignore them, or say any of the smart comments I'd worked up.

I was simply frozen in place with my eyes glued onto the younger, drenched, kid. I had never seen anyone as small, or as white as he was.

And the entire time the kid just starred right back at me… his dark grey, ominous, eyes starring from behind the wet locks of white hair that hung lethargically in his face into the depths of my very being.

His body looked young, child-like, but his eyes were centuries older.

"Ah, Mello," Wammy said, bringing me out of my thoughts, though not quite breaking the stare between us, "wonderful timing. This is our newest addition to the orphanage; his name is Near."

'Near…' I thought to myself.

"Why don't you show him to the empty bedroom upstairs so he can change? Then if you would be so kind as to show him to Roger's office." Wammy put his umbrella on the rack by the door before beginning off down the hall; this left Near and I in a tense silence.

I watched carefully from the bottom step as Near stepped closer to me; he held out one of his small hands while his eyes continued to watch me.

Hesitantly, I extended my own hand and shook his, "Uh…" His eyes intimidated me at first and left me at a loss for words. "My name's Mello." I forced out.

He didn't say anything in response, and his expression hardly showed any change.

"Alright," I took my hand back, "Come on." I turned, breaking our stare in order to begin up the stairs again.

Near followed, just like he was told, and surprisingly to me, despite how much I tried, I couldn't tear my eyes away from him for more than a couple moments.

I had never seen anything like Near before. He was so quiet and yet lacked so much emotion in his entire being. It felt as though he wasn't even alive… he was just a being living each moment like it was nothing.

He intrigued me even from that very moment. Before I spoke to him and I just observed what he wanted me to see… he was a mystery that I couldn't tear myself away from.

He interested me in the same way Matt interested me with the way he could play games for twelve hours straight and then go to class and never fall asleep once.

I had to get him to talk… I needed to figure something, anything, out about this kid.

"So… how old are you?" I asked, looking at him to observe any reaction he made.

He didn't say anything, or make any other movements to give me an answer.

"Are you mute?" I asked.

Finally, he shook his head.

'Well at least he understands me… that's a relief. It'd be kind of awkward if he didn't.' I thought to myself as we reached the second floor. There were a couple of other people walking around the hall, and each of them stopped and watched us in wonder of who the little albino boy was.

I didn't offer them any answers. I knew almost as much as they did.

But I was determined to know more. At first, Near never seemed like any competition to me. He was just a new kid here who would fall into some random slot like everyone else and never get to taste the victory I held dear.

When we finally reached the room that no one else used, I pushed the door open and instantly a cold wave washed out upon us. It was evident how much this room was used by the trapped air.

But it was also different now. The bed was made up in white sheets and there were a couple of boxes sitting on one of the corners.

I wondered, as I leaned against the doorframe, when exactly those had been brought up here. When had I missed that? … How had everyone missed that.

It was then that I noticed Near was just standing by the door; his grey eyes staring back at me. I was confused about why he was just staring at me; then suddenly, it hit me.

"Oh! Um… sorry." I stuttered out then stepped from the doorway and closed the door. Where had all my words gone?

It was those damn eyes… those damn eyes took all my words and left me nearly speechless.

I leaned against the parallel wall, watching the closed door and observing the way there was absolutely no sound coming from it. It didn't make sense how someone could just be that quiet… as if they didn't even exist.

I then began to wonder, was that what it was? Was it that he didn't want his own existence so much that he was trying to disappear into the world; to find someplace where no one would find him?

Yes… Near was certainly a mystery to me at first.

When Near opened the door again, I was surprised to find that he was once again dressed in, what looked like, the exact same clothes. I wondered for a moment if he didn't change, but just dried himself off really quickly.

I dismissed the thought and stood up with my eyes continuing to trail on him. I didn't even bother to try and distract my sights with something else. I was determined to figure out what lay underneath that stoic outside.

"Ready?" I asked.

He just barely nodded.

Yes… I would certainly figure it out… it was just a matter of how to do it.

A/N: Ugh… I struggled with this chapter and what to put into it. Again, I apologize that the updates have been so far between but I've been distracted. I don't know when the next one is going to come out, or what's going to be in it. I'll aim for it to be much longer than this though.

Let me know your thoughts!

Please review!  
_-Forbiddensoul562_


	11. I Remember Watching Him

A/N: Wow I am so sorry that this story has been delayed so much and that updates haven't been happening as quick. I've gotten so involved with my new stories that this one and _Wherever It May Take Us_ have taken backseat. I'm going to try and write more for this one so I can post faster. I'm sorry again.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters in this story.

Chapter 11: I Remember Watching Him…

The days that followed Near's first visit to Roger's office were the ones that we really brought Near and I closer together. Though, that really is a bit harder to say seeing as Near never spoke a word… it was always me who was around him, and who talked to him, who really gave a shit about him.

He would just sit in the common room, playing with his robots.

I would lie in front of him and watch him for God only knows how long. The entire time I couldn't help but wonder what kind of thing he was playing out in his mind.

I knew even when he didn't speak that his mind was amazing. I could just tell by the things he did; his actions, however small they were, always spoke for him, even if I was the only one who really heard those silent words.

I think I was hell-bent on trying to get him to speak though. I know I wanted to hear what his voice was like.

I would talk to him quite often though. I told him about Wammy's, and about Matt. When I walked with him in the halls I would tell him who to be around and who to avoid. I'd tell him about soccer games that I played in, since he never went outside. I'd tell him anything.

It was like he was just an open ear… willing to take in anything I had to say, no matter how insignificant it was. He was the only one who was like that, too.

Sure, Matt was there to listen sometimes, but it wasn't the same as Near. Matt spoke back, and gave me his opinion. Near just listened. And if he minded at all, he didn't show it to me.

I never minded that a first. I enjoyed being able to just… talk. To just… be, around him.

I never had to hide anything from him. Sometimes I would have to hide things from Matt, when I told him… more because I was a bit defensive than anything, but with Near… even if I went into the conversation knowing that I didn't want to tell him something… somehow the words just slipped from my lips.

And the entire time all he did was continue to play with his toys.

Every once and a while he would look at me, as though he had something to say, but would refrain from it. I only minded it sometimes, more when I was talking about controversial things than anything. Most of the time, though, it was those small glances my way that told me he was listening.

I remember watching him one day. It was just another day that I was letting pass me by. It was raining outside which meant we couldn't go outside, so I laid in the common room watching Near play in his own world; the entire time I wondered how he could do that every day.

And then, all of a sudden the thoughts began to flood into me as I'd never felt them before. I began to wonder why Near was the way he was.

He was incredibly pale, and thin, though not sickly thin. He had deep grey eyes that could tear into ones soul as I'd never witnessed before. He had the power to speak without any words at all. He could get anyone to tell him any secret just by waiting… and never speaking a word. He was an amazement to me that I couldn't help wonder about.

How did someone come to be like he was?

Me, being the outspoken person that I am, had to voice these questions. "Did you choose this?" I suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had befallen the room.

His actions stopped for only a moment so he could look up at me. There was absolutely no emotion in his eyes, but I could tell that, if he did talk, he would be asking me what I meant. After being around him so much I just understood those things.

"The way you are now… was it something you just… chose to do? Or did something happen to make you this way?" I wasn't expecting an answer… and when I realized this, I began to wonder why I was even asking him this.

He continued to watch me with those solid grey eyes that I could almost see myself in. Every few moments his eyes would twitch to examine different parts of me. I couldn't help wondering what it was he was thinking. What did he think of me?

After a moment it was evident that he wasn't going to say anything, so I spoke instead. "I tell you everything about me, Near. Except some things. I get it when I say that there are things you just can't say because it hurts. But the least you could do is tell me if that's the case or not." I explained.

He just continued to watch me; with those eyes that was reading my very soul.

"I wonder about you, you know." I said, quieter now.

He didn't say anything.

"I wonder about what you think. About why you do the things you do. About what happened to you. I wonder about the stories you play out with those damn robots. Why the hell can't you just tell me something?"

I was getting frustrated… I knew it. If something didn't happen quickly, I wasn't sure what I would do to him. Something had to stop this. Something needed to happen.

I remember thinking to myself, 'Maybe something happened… maybe someone told him to be silent and he took it literally. Maybe he went through a traumatizing event. Or… maybe he's just not that much of a talker. Though… you'd think he'd at least say one word to me after all I'd told him.'

I rested my head on my folder arms, my eyes never leaving his. I continued to wait… waiting for something, anything to happen from him. I wasn't expecting much… but I wanted even the smallest thing.

His eyes continued to stare into mine for another moment before he looked down. I'm not sure what it was about those small actions, but suddenly, I thought of something.

"You know what I think?" I said. "I think you're so silent, and so quiet, because you don't want to make an effect on others. I think it's that you don't want to make an impression on them. I think you feel you really don't have anything you need to prove to them anymore, or to even show them. I would even go as drastic as to say you've lost every will to even be."

His movements with his robots stopped after I spoke. His eyes continued to look down at the plastic figurines who were under his manipulation and I saw absolutely no falter in the eyes.

But I continued to watch… his actions said I had hit something. Even if it was small. My heart began to race in my chest… what was he going to do now?

Slowly, his eyes trailed up to meet mine again, there was definitely something there, but I couldn't place it, even to this day, for the life of me.

"You are correct." He suddenly said.

A/N: Wow that was such a short chapter. But I think it was pretty good, and showed a bit of the relationship they had before the complete competition. The next chapter will be particularly interesting too, so I guess that one won't take too long to get up. Anyway, more reviews entices quicker updates!

Please review!  
_-Forbiddensoul562_


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